


A Love Like That of a Brother...But Also More.

by Phate07



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Blood and Sand
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Mental Anguish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phate07/pseuds/Phate07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varro and Spartacus find comfort in each other after enduring trying ordeals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love Like That of a Brother...But Also More.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't watched past S1E7 of the show, then this little story has spoilers, though the show has been out for so long...even though I only started watching it myself :P
> 
> I changed a few things in the time-line (sorry not sorry). I know that the scene with Varro, Spartacus and the thracian blade happens before Varro sees Aurelia again. I liked the idea of combining that scene with a conversation about what happened to Aurelia and Varro's guilt regarding that, and the mutual comfort that follows. I tagged it as both "romantic" and a "platonic" relationship because there's nothing explicitly sexual that happens but...there are feelings there. 
> 
> Also it's probably all crap anyways, I'm sorry. I just really liked the dynamic between those two characters and I'm currently obsessed with Jai Courtney (except for the blonde curly hair, not a fan :P )

One evening, some days after Sura’s funeral, Varro went to visit Spartacus in the room given to him after his and Crixus’ joint defeat of Theokoles. Varro had felt an itch to speak to Spartacus but hadn’t yet been able to give life to the words that were floating about in his mind.

He had not yet shared the news of Aurelia’s forced pregnancy by another man for he felt shame at not being there for her. Were it not for the debt that forced him to slavery, he would still be with his family, being a husband to Aurelia, a father to his son, a father to the unborn child she carried inside her.

The guilt had weighed on him, gnawed at his soul and affected him to the point that the others noticed but said nothing, for they were none a friend to him. Only Spartacus did he know well and felt at ease with.

The thracian had been wrestling with his own guilt and sadness, however. The loss of his wife had been truly devastating. Spartacus hadn’t seen her in nearly a year since he was forced to become a gladiator for Batiatus. Their “owner” had made many promises that he would find her and bring her, alive, were Spartacus to discipline himself and fight for the glory of Batiatus’ ludus, but it seemed to have all been in vain when she arrived but mortally wounded.

Spartacus was turning the thracian blade he had stolen from the Magistrate’s son, Numerius, over and over in his hands. 

“That is unwise, were the guards to see you with it.” Varro said in a low voice as he seated himself across from the other man. 

“What could they do to me that has not already been done?” Spartacus asked, his voice distant as if he were speaking to no one in particular.

“I never should have left her…” Spartacus sighed and gripped the hilt of the blade so hard his knuckles whitened.

“You did not leave her. She was /taken/ from you.” Varro tried to assure him with a firm tone as he went to sit next to Spartacus and put an arm around his shoulder.

“Before I left for war...she asked me not to go.” Spartacus said, still far away, but his voice started to crack some. The veneer of calm was falling away and his body started to tense and then relax, only to start shaking under his friend’s embrace.

“You did what you thought was right, to protect her.” Varro rasped as he remembered the words Aurelia had spoken to him, and how what he spoke now was for himself and for Spartacus.

Varro reached out with his free hand and gently took away the blade to set it aside. Spartacus seemed to welcome the gesture and now that his hands were free of it, he seemed to curl in on himself underneath his friend and take comfort from the closeness.

“You are my only friend here, I pray you will forgive me for the words I am about to speak, for I do not wish to encroach upon your grief, but I have need of a listening ear. Would you listen?” Varro asked, speaking almost in a whisper as he let his head rest on top of Spartacus’.

“Speak, if you must, you know I will always listen and offer counsel if you ask it.” Spartacus said in reply while he shifted underneath Varro and reached out to entwine the fingers of his left hand with that of his friend’s right. 

“Aurelia...is...pregnant.” Varro finally breathed out after a long silence.

“We have both been here nearly a year...what has happened?” Spartacus finally asked, opting to hear the explanation from Varro instead of making himself out to be an ass by saying something unnecessary.

“She said that a man...Titus...offered to support her and our son since my winnings were not enough. While in his house he forced himself upon her and got her with child. She blames me for not being there...she is probably right. Yet still I am angry with her. Do you think the gods are punishing me? Am I not the most terrible man to ever exist?” Varro asked, anguish cracking his normally calm tone. 

“You ask me such things but you have a wife still! When your debt is paid you can go back to them, your wife and both children, and still be a father! I have no such future!” Spartacus suddenly flared, voice hoarse and choked with tears that had started to flow freely as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. 

“Forgive me, friend, please! I beg of you! I truly am the most terrible man…” Varro whispered as he put his other arm around Spartacus and pulled him tightly into the embrace. 

“Do not be angry with her. Never be angry with her. You love her, and she you. Cling to her in your mind and keep that memory inside of you like a flame that fuels your every action. It may be all that you can do to stay alive until you are able to leave this place. Never forget that.” Spartacus told Varro through a steady stream of tears that stung the many cuts and scrapes on his face. 

“I do love her, and always will. My friend...my only friend here, you must know that I have come to love you as well.” Varro said quietly, a slight strain in his voice as he loosened the embrace and reached out with one hand to lift up his friend’s face so that he could look upon it.

Spartacus remained silent but did not push away from the touch even as Varro leaned close to kiss away the salt of many tears. He laid gentle kisses on each eyelid and felt the feather touch of eyelashes. He kissed all the way down one side, over the cheek, along the scars, scrapes and bruises. When he got to the jaw he moved to the other side, kissing from there and up again before pulling back to look again into his friend’s eyes.

“It is a love like that of a brother...but also more. It does neither replace nor eclipse the love I have for Aurelia. I never knew it possible to feel that way for more than one person, but I find it to be true, here and now. If my feelings are...unwelcome...you need only say the word and we never speak of it again, and I will leave this very moment.” Varro said quietly, hoping that the feelings he spoke of would be reciprocated, at least some what.

“I do not know what to say, but I would ask you to stay with me for a while longer. You are not unwelcome…” Spartacus replied in a more clear voice, his tears having ceased for now. To make sure Varro was convinced that he was welcome, Spartacus reached up, pulling his friend’s face closer until their lips could press together. He did not know what to make the confession, but he was starting to feel inclined to echo it.

They kissed for some time, but it was neither chaste nor exceptionally passionate. It started slow, and took some time to deepen, but they were never overtaken by lust. Instead they basked in the comfort of the intimate gesture but eventually broke from it to lay in each others arms for quite a while. They did not speak again during that time, but their bond would be forever changed for the better by the exchange.


End file.
